Harry Potter - Urchin, Thief and Wandmakers Apprentice
by Graedusk
Summary: Harry Potter, abandoned in an orphanage, then on the run, a thief in the night, then the wandmaker comes. (ON HIATUS)
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter - Urchin, Thief and Wandmakers Apprentice.

Chapter 1 – Dust

 _Disclaimer – of course Harry Potter isn't mine you dolt._

 _Graphic Violence, Trigger warning: abuse_

Dust, it wasn't something one usually thought about in much detail, it just kind of _was._ Why are we talking about dust you may ask? Well, it was just about all our hero – wait maybe not hero, anti-hero? No bit to pretentious. Our…Harry, yeah let's settle with that shall we? Anyway, yes dust – we are here speaking of it because it is all our young Mr Harry, could think of speaking about at a moment's notice - Hey, be nice he's only young. You see dust is, eloquent as a muggle once said and it had been Harry's constant companion since his birth. What little he could remember of it anyway or chose to remember – either way. Dust had been the only thing that had never, ever gone away. How's about we have a gander at our young Mr Potter, through his trials and tribulations as he makes his mark on humanity with a deft and subtle hand.

 _Privet Drive, Surrey_

"What on Earth are we going to do with it Petunia?! What does that letter say?! DON'T IGNORE ME!" Thundered a voice belonging to a large whale-like man with hardly any neck, directed at a slim woman who sat on a floral-patterned sofa clutching a letter in her clenched fist – her eyes blazing with both fury and fear.

The reason for this uproar, was laying asleep on the carpet between the two. Just that morning when the woman had been putting out the milk bottles, she had stumbled across the sleeping babe with a letter clasped in his tiny fist. She had quickly brought the _thing_ as she called it, inside before the neighbours could see and thus found herself in the situation, we now peer upon.

"It's a letter from _them!_ The freaks that _she_ was a part of, the slut's worthless husband must have knocked her up. It can't stay here, I told her years ago I wanted nothing to do with her or her ilk. I don't care what Dumbledore says!" She spoke in a venomous tone that made even Vernon take a step back.

"What do we _do_ with it though Petunia?! I s'pose I could take it up to an Orphanage, in London so it's far away?" Vernon spoke in a voice that trembled, this sort of scandal could ruin his reputation and that simply was not allowed.

"Do it, make sure nobody sees you – this cannot lead back to us in _any_ way. Go now." Petunia spoke in a tone of finality. With that Vernon took his coat of the hanger, snatched his car keys from the bowl by the door and then hurried into the living room where his wife still sat. "I'll be a few hours; all this will be over soon" He said before hurrying out the door with the sleeping babe bundled in his arms.

 _Grindeyve Orphanage, London_

Selene Browhurst, head of Grindeyve Orphanage was not an overly patient woman – so why she pursued a career in the _child care_ industry was anyone's guess. So, when a screaming baby was found on her doorstep even before her 9:00 am coffee – she wasn't in the best of moods. Walking out into the cold morning air, her high heels clicking on the iron grey stone she spotted the source of the horrendous racket laying on the bottom step, not a person in sight. Walking down the steps in a huff she stopped and looked down at the screaming child. However, she did not make any move to pick it up, or to even check if it was ok – instead she stood glowering down at it before saying "Oh shut up you little brat!" swatting the child across the face harshly, to which the baby's screams only amplified in decibels.

With that she picked it up and walked inside screeching "KELLY! Get your arse down here and help me!" Kelly, a thin twenty-one-year-old with shoulder length blonde hair and way too much make-up on came running down the stairs a moment later wearing a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a vest top.

"Shit what the fuck is going on here?" She said walking into hers and Selene's shared office to a screeching that she was sure most opera singers couldn't reach "Found this screaming on the front steps about five minutes ago, best process him and find him a room. Couldn't find any sort of identification on him, we'll get the doc to check him over once he's in. Well? What you gawking at, get to it!" Selene said

While Kelly took the screaming baby away, Selene sat down at her desk and thought _"One thing after a bloody other today"_

 _Two hours later_

Dr Graveson had been called in early that morning, apparently some little tyke had been found screaming on the front steps this morning by Miss Browhurst. And thus, the good doctor was needed to process the child, he felt a tingle of excitement go through him – he always got excited when someone new arrived.

"Ahh Kelly, so what have we here then?" Dr Graveson asked

"No clue, no sort of identification on him – just found him on the steps" The woman said

"Ahh I see, so we have a mystery on our hands? Very well, you may go now my dear" The doctor said nodding towards the door. As Kelly left, he turned to the now silent child, then he picked up a syringe and said, "Well then, let's have a look at you, shall we?"

 _8 years later_

He never, ever wanted to see a bowl of fucking porridge _ever_ again. Every day, he was forced to eat the grey slop. On top of listening to the grating voice of Miss Browhurst, the scathing drawl of Kelly, the sickly-sweet voice of Dr Graveson, or even worse the booming aggressive voice of Father Brennan.

"Oi! Dust head, you're being spoken to!" Came the voice of one of the other children, breaking his reverie "What?" He said indignantly, unfortunately Miss Browhurst heard him and she quickly made her way over to him and said in a venomous voice "Remember your manners boy, else you'll suffer the consequences" he paled at that and muttered a stuttered "S-sorry" under his breath.

She smiled that false smile she plastered on whenever prospective foster parents would come by and said, "That's better, now through to the chapel – Father Brennan would like to speak with you." He inwardly groaned, he couldn't stand the man with his preaching about God and the Holy Bible, from what he had read – the Christians weren't as, forgive the pun – _Saint_ like as they would like to appear. The residents and staff of the orphanage (or Prison as he called it) all hated him, mostly because of his unnatural evolution. He had been the one to learn to walk first, read first and write first – even the school he was forced to go to where more concerned than impressed. Hence his name, Dust Head – all the kids mocked him because of his intellect, calling him _freak_ and _weirdo._

Walking into the chapel, he found Father Brennan waiting for him "Boy, follow me – we must speak" He said in his thick Irish brogue. He simply nodded and followed – he was never one to speak unless necessary.

Stopping at a small table, Father Brennan invited him to sit down – well it wasn't really an invite, more of a command _masquerading_ as an invite. He sat and looked at the aged Father with trepidation.

"Miss Browhurst has told me of her concerns about you, your unnaturalness as it were." He internally rolled his eyes; the old man was trying to get him to trust in _God_ and _Jesus Christ._

"And I propose a solution" That brought him back to reality, he nodded for the man to continue. "I would propose that more _direct_ action, is needed in your case – so as the light of the Lord can shine upon you and chase away any dark unpleasantness. I am proposing that my wife and I, adopt you – All the paperwork is done, and we only need to pack up your stuff then we can go to your new home." The old man smiled a smile that lacked any real warmth behind it, to him – he was giving the boy in front of him a brand-new start in life, he would have a child to mould and shape to however he wanted.

"B-but what i-if I d-don't w-want y-you, t-t-to a-a-adopt m-m-me" He said shakily, then wished he hadn't – the mans face flushed scarlet and he was on his feet with a speed that belied his old age. And before the boy could move, he had him by his hair and threw him to the cold hard stone, where he proceeded to brutally kick the boy in the back and stomach.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SHIT!" He bellowed as he levelled a kick at his gut "I OFFER YOU THE LIGHT OF THE LORD AND YOU THROW IT BACK IN MY FACE!" He bellowed louder still and savagely booted the boy's ribcage "YOU. WILL. TAKE. WHAT. YOU. ARE. GIVEN. AND. BE. GREATFUL. YOU. HAVE. IT." He punctuated every word with a kick to the boy's gut, he lay there in agony as the older and stronger man towered above him.

But then, the unexpected happened – as the man was getting ready to level a kick at the boy's head. A sudden burst of silver light exploded from the boys chest, and the scar on his head prickled slightly. What was more interesting however, was the fact that Father Brennan was suddenly thrown bodily to the very end of the hall where a large ornate golden cross hung by what seemed to be a large silhouette of a man made completely of dust and cobwebs, the cross came crashing down onto the mans back, and he moved no more.

In all the commotion, Miss Browhurst along with Kelly and half the residents of the Orphanage had all come running into the chapel. Stunned silence reigned, until a sudden cry split the silence.

" _MURDERER!"_ The cry came from Kelly who was rummaging in her pocket for her phone "Call the police. Now." Said Miss Browhurst glowering evilly at the boy.

In his daze he didn't even notice, with strength he didn't know he had. He leapt up and raced towards the front door, the cries of "STOP!" Falling on deaf ears. All he could hear was a voice he didn't recognise shouting a name he didn't know, was it Harry? Then a high, cold cruel laugh permeated his ear drums and he swore he could see a burst of green light.

He had run nearly five miles before he stopped for breath, the memories of both the event with Father Brennan and what followed still plagued him. With a weary head, the boy walked for a bit – until he heard a police siren. He knew who they where from what the kids at school told him "Bad men who'll take ye away" So acting on some unknown instinct he ducked into an alleyway, behind a large bin. The ground was wet, and everything around him reeked and was covered in dust but oddly, the grey specks floating in the air – disturbed by his presence, and the dark shadows covering the alley brought him, _peace_ the sort of thing that most find in the sun. He decided not to muse on this, and instead leant his head against the rough brick wall, letting his scruffy raven hair fall over his eyes he pulled the hood of his thin jacket up and – for the first time in his whole life.

Harry Potter slept soundly.

 _A/N – Hello there people of the Interwebs, this is something I have been thinking about for a while. It will run in conjunction with my other story. As can be expected with me, both stories will be updated as and when I can. If any of you have any questions feel free to leave a review or PM me, this chapter dealt with the first few years of Harry's life, which lead up to "The event" Now you may notice I do not refer to Harry by name till the end of the chapter, this is done intentionally don't worry. The whole thing with dust and shadows being prevalent will be expanded upon in later chapters, just know that they will be a major thing in this fic. There will be romance in it eventually, I do have a pairing in mind (if you don't like it you don't have to read it sweet cheeks) anyway, the next chapter will deal with the aftermath of what happened in the Orphanage, both from the OC's perspective and Harry's, don't worry this isn't going to be "Eight year old Harry murders man and is inexplicably fine" Fic. And also we will see what happens with Harry while he's out and about in Muggle London._

 _Until next we meet,_

 _Seya soon my freaky darlin's!_

Grae


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter – Urchin, Thief and Wandmakers Apprentice

Chapter 2 – Into the unknown

DI Hutcher drove down the small street leading to Grindeyve Orphanage, he was here to investigate a reported murder at the orphanage. Parking a short distance from the Orphanage he opened his car door and stepped out into the cold air, as he walked up the iron grey steps, he drew his notepad out and made for the door, nearly walking into a tall man who was just leaving.

"Sorry pal" he muttered, realizing he had dropped his notepad he bent down to pick it up – however a gloved hand beat him to it.

"My mistake lad wasn't looking where I was going" A voice said, DI Hutcher looked up at the tall man. He had a medium length grey beard along with dark hair tied behind his head. His face was very hawk like. "I'm Stanford Elms, and you are? "he said

"DI Hutcher, were you here when the incident happened?" he asked politely, Elms looked confused "Incident? Oh, you must be talking about the cause of all the commotion this morning? No, I wasn't here then, sorry officer" he said in response, turning to walk away.

"No bother, but if you think of anything – here's my card" responded Hutcher handing the man the small piece of paper. He merely nodded and went on his way.

DI Hutcher walked into the orphanage, and began taking notes, trying to figure out which way the killer could have gone. "Who're you?" came a raised voice. He turned to find a woman with blonde hair and a lot of makeup on.

"DI Hutcher, I'm here about a reported murder? "he responded walking toward her "Took ya long enough! You had best come into the office. "she said walking away, raising an eyebrow he followed.

"Are you Miss Browhurst?" he asked as he sat down "No I'm her assistant, Kelly Reed" she responded whilst hammering on a keyboard "Very well Miss Reed, what can you tell me about what happened?" He asked her

"It was Dust Head, always causing trouble that one" She said still hammering away on her keyboard "Dust Head? Miss Reed I'm going to need your full attention." He snapped lightly, she slammed her hands down on the keyboard and turned aggressively towards him " _Fine!_ I just told you, it was that Dust Head kid" She said loudly

"Who is this person you call 'Dust Head' Miss Reed?" Hutcher asked noting down her aggressive attitude and unwillingness to cooperate. "I can't remember his name, the kids called him Dust Head because he was a smartass" She said in a voice that said she didn't care "What can you tell me about what happened? And I may remind you that your level of cooperation will decide weather I consider you a major suspect in this investigation." DI Hutcher said firmly, looking her in the eye.

She sobered up quickly and after swallowing loudly she said "We where having breakfast, Selene was talking to Du- the boy, he was rude, so she had to be quite firm with him. Then he headed off into the chapel, all I know is that Father Brennan wanted to talk to him – I don't know what about, the next thing we heard was Father Brennan shouting, which ain't unusual but this time he sounded _livid_ we all rushed in and found the boy on the floor, Brennan standing over him – then suddenly, Brennan goes flying toward the cross and the boy legs it. That's all I remember, I swear" She said in a slightly panicked voice

DI Hutcher nodded and noted it all down, but something was bugging him "You say that Father Brennan went _flying_ through the air, was there any indication of _how_?" He asked "No clue, the kid couldn't have done it, skinny one he was "She said shrugging.

Hutcher looked pensive for a moment then said "I'll need the boys file before I leave, also going to need to question a few of the children" He said standing up "I'll have it ready before you le-" Kelly said but stopped short at the entrance of the second woman "No you won't, who are you and why are you questioning my secretary?" The woman said "Miss Browhurst I presume? DI Browhurst, Metropolitan Police." He said showing his ID "They only sent one of you? _Tsk_ London really has gone to the dogs" She said under her breath.

"I am going to need to get your version of events and also – with you present – going to need to question a few of the children, also the file pertaining to the resident who is a potential suspect and as of now, at large" he said in the same firm voice he had used with Kelly earlier, it had the same effect "Well? You heard him, get the file!" She snapped at her secretary who jumped into action not a moment later.

"As I'm sure Kelly has already stated, it was the Dust Head boy – why are you here questioning me when you should be out there looking for him?!" She snapped "We have to explore all avenues Miss Browhurst, now if you wouldn't mind escorting me to one of the children's rooms.

 _2 & ½ hours later _

DI Hutcher exited the orphanage, walking towards his car. The consensus was that this unnamed 'Dust Head' was the one responsible. He had the boys file and would read it when he got back to the station, it was a curious case to be sure – how could a boy of eight _throw_ a grown man across a room and cause enough injuries to cause the man to _die?_ All these questions he would answer over a cup of coffee back at the station.

Little did he know how complicated things had just become.

-x-

Why was it so cold? He was sure it wasn't meant to be this cold at this time of year, crossing his arms across his chest Harry began to walk. Truth be told he was having a bit of an identity crisis at current, he had spent a lot of time that morning thinking – who did he want to be? What he was now, or Dust Head? To be honest he didn't exactly _like_ the 'Head' part, but Dust? That he could work with. The name had a mystery and subtle message to it, yes – he decided that this is what he would refer to himself as, Dust.

He was so deep in his musings that he very nearly walked into a tall man with long silver hair "Careful stupid boy!" He shouted swatting him away with a sharp move of his hand, hitting him across the face and sending him to the floor.

"Ow! Jeez man" He shouted loudly, the man merely sneered at him and stalked away, he got up and rubbed his face before grinning – little did the man know, he had lifted his purse as he fell. Running into an alley he withdrew his prize from the folds of his jacket and found a velvet sack – he had always been good at stealing, but he never stole from those who had little as was. He thought of it as his code, his raison d'etre if you will.

Upon opening the bag however, his chest fell in disappointment – the coins inside where all weird shapes and sizes and looked nothing like the pounds and notes he was used to, before he could muse on this further however a loud yell penetrated his ear drums "Why you dirty little thief! I'll string you up for this!" the voice may have said more but Dust wouldn't have known, he was too busy running as fast as his legs would carry him, he ran to the end of the long alley and turned left. He heard a cracking sound behind him but paid it no mind – however upon turning down the second alley the man with the silver hair appeared before him and – to his surprise – sent a bright red bolt of energy from a – was it a _stick?_ Luckily, he dodged the sizzling mass and quickly turned and ran the opposite way down the street and leapt up on a large bin, before grabbing hold of a window sill and hoisting himself up then finally grabbing hold of the roof and scrambling up, another sizzling red bolt went past him, but he yet again dodged it.

He ran along rooftop after rooftop and only when he had run for a solid twenty minutes did, he stop. Climbing down he spotted a queer looking building. It was black and looked almost derelict, for a moment he thought it _was_ derelict until he saw men and women disappearing in and out of it. But it wasn't this that confused him, the people walking past didn't seem to _notice_ that the building was there. They looked from the building on the left to the right without a second's hesitation between the two, his curiosity peaked – he climbed down.

Dropping down onto the roof of the black building, he climbed near silently – before reaching a small courtyard with a few barrels and some weeds, he dropped down and looked at the wall. There was something about it that just didn't seem right.

Looking around from his crouched position, he deduced that he wasn't going to be disturbed. He started to tap and run his fingers along the wall. He continued like this for a few minutes before coming to a sudden realisation, the wall – which on the surface looked like normal red brick – was hollow.

His curiosity peaked even further he started looking for a way round the wall. Inadvertently trailing his hand across a few of the bricks.

A moment later, the wall started to move – Dust in a panic started to look for a place to hide, jumping behind one of the barrels he held his breath.

After a few moments he risked a glance around the barrel – his jaw dropped – before him, was a whole street filled with the most peculiar people he had ever clapped eyes on.

Noticing that no one had batted an eyelid at the hole that had appeared in the formerly solid wall, he decided to skip round and enter the weird little street. Stepping into the shadow of a huge barrel that reeked of Gods know what, he looked down the street – he slowly walked down the street, in the shadow of a large shop with peeling golden letters that he couldn't read he saw an elderly man staring at him with large misty eyes. He stopped and looked at the slightly creepy man with wide eyes, the man offered him a small smile which he did not return – instead taking off down the street, he stopped at a large white building would have continued, if not for a white bolt of energy hitting him in the legs and sending him crashing to the stone steps.

"Think you could outrun me could you, filthy urchin!" Said a voice " _Oh crap!"_ He thought, then he felt a hand on his collar haul him up to his feet before another deeper voice spoke "Mr Malfoy, unhand the boy! He is but a child, spare him your wrath." The man, who Dust assumed was Mr Malfoy threw him unceremoniously to the cobbles and said "What business is it of yours Goblin? I am your better and I will do as I please." He said sneering

"You fired a spell outside our bank, Mr Malfoy as I am sure you know, wars between the Goblin Nation and Wizardkind have been waged over less." The deep voice said "ThenI shall be back with a Wizengamot writ. You will regret this most grievous offense on me boy. Mark my words." The man said pointing his wand at the boy before walking away.

Dust felt vibration on the floor in front of him and looked up, ready to run. He flinched when he felt a pair of strong, slightly rough arms lift him from the floor "Don't worry child, I shan't lay a hand on you. But a word of advice I would give." He said, but Dust was too busy staring at his face – it was vaguely dragon like and seemed adept at glaring "Do not make an enemy out of Lucius Malfoy, he is a very powerful man. It is rumoured he was in Lord Voldemort's inner circle, but we do not partake in the wars of wizards."

"L-Lord V-Voldemort? Who's that?" He said in a rough gritty voice, the Goblin looked at him strangely "Lord Voldemort? The dark wizard who started the recent war? The man who was killed some years ago, after a confrontation with a wizarding family who I am not at liberty to mention. Anyway, I have said more than I should – heed my advice child, farewell."

The Goblin walked away, and Dust quickly made him self scarce. Finding himself a dark corner, he sat down – he had no idea where he was, but it was strange and slightly scary. He couldn't go back to the orphanage, this much he knew. After the incident with… Brennan, he knew the police would be after him.

He had been avoiding thinking about it all day, but here alone with his thoughts the dark tendrils of his mind clawed him back to the brutal realisation – he had _murdered_ a man, it tore at him – he had never intended to kill him, merely get him away – but the dust and cobwebs had gone even further, that irked at him too. What _had_ it been? He shook his head, he did not wish to dwell on this. Before he could properly gather himself however, yet another distraction made its appearance – this one grabbing him by the chest and hauled him to a standing position.

"You have upset a very important man urchin, now you're going to pay – you're coming with me." Dust felt a sucking sensation then, he appeared in a large hall with an obnoxiously large fountain and then he was dragged along corridors that all looked the same. Then he was unceremoniously dropped into a large wooden chair.

"This court has been summoned to deal with a case of gross insult on a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, your guilt has already been determined however we are here to decide your punishment for your transgressions. Do you understand?" Boomed a voice from above him

"Y-yes" Was all Dust said

"As a minor you are exempt from sentencing to Azkaban, however I propose that the offender be sanctioned to Diagon Alley until the age of eleven and kept away from good respectable people such as Mr Malfoy here. All those in favour!" The voice shouted, much of the hall raised their hands.

"Very well, I Cornelius Oswald Fudge here by sentence the offender to location arrest at Diagon Alley. Auror Bodis find him an appropriate Guardian for this sentence. This court is adjourned." Boomed Fudge.

Then he was being dragged through corridor after corridor and before he knew it, he was back in the strange alley, this must be called Diagon Alley he thought "You're damn lucky we ain't still at war, you'd have been straight to Azkaban then." The man, Bodis said – he didn't understand what the word Auror meant but his head was buzzing with much bigger questions. A Guardian? He was being adopted? But he hadn't met the one who was adopting him? And everyone had seen what a disaster his _last_ adoption had been.

"Oi wandmaker! Get over here!" Shouted Bodis "Ahh, Wulfrum Bodis – 8 & ¼ inches, ebony and dragon heartstring. How may I help you?" Said a mysterious voice, Dust looked up and his eyes widened when he saw the same pair of misty eyes that had spotted him earlier. He struggled but a strong arm held him in place.

"This little tyke has been sentenced to location arrest in Diagon Alley until he is eleven, you're gonna be his Guardian. Congratulations" Bodis said throwing Dust at the elderly man's feet. "And what heinous crime has this poor boy committed to have the dire sentence of my company thrust upon him?" The man said in the same mysterious voice.

"Made the mistake of stealing off of Lucius Malfoy, good day to you sir" Bodis said exiting the shop.

"I am Mr Ollivander, and I wasn't expecting to see you for at least a few years – Mr Potter. Now jump up, let's get you a room sorted." Mr Ollivander said walking away.

Dust looked up from the floor, _what_ did the man just call him?

 _AN ~ What d'ya think? Yes, I know the "court process" was rushed, there is a reason for that which shall be explored in the next chapter. Harry or Dust, whichever you prefer – will be staying with Mr Ollivander for quite a while, not that he'll do it willingly at first you understand. Until a certain bearded headmaster learns of his peculiar predicament, yes Dumbledore's meddling may play a small part in this story – truth be told I haven't decided yet._

 _As always_

 _Until next we meet,_

 _See ya soon my freaky darlin's!_

Grae.


End file.
